


Breaking Records

by turntechnologic



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Community: homesmut, M/M, Masturbation, One Shot, Prompt Fill, Spanking, dub-con, sort of in the beginning I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-29
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2018-01-06 13:57:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1107677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turntechnologic/pseuds/turntechnologic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt:  Dave does something that really pisses Bro off. Bro is so pissed off that he doesn't want to strife with Dave over it - he wants Dave to feel really contrite and humiliated, so he throws Dave over his lap, yanks his pants down and really wails on his ass without mercy until it's good and red.</p><p>During the whole thing Dave tries really hard to keep it together and be all defiant... even though it hurts like hell, it's really embarrassing, and he has a raging erection. As soon as it's over, he rushes back to his room and jerks off to what just happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaking Records

**Author's Note:**

> So I was lurking around Homesmut and realized one of the fills looked reeeeeeeally familiar for some reason, and a quick trip to my old writing folder confirmed my suspicions because wow, guys, look, I wrote a Bro/Dave spanking thingy and completely forgot about it!

 

You watch the record fall from your grasp in slow motion. It takes ten years for the smooth vinyl to collide with the cracked tile floor and splinter into a million shards, but even with all that time your lithe fingers could not catch it. Black shrapnel scatters out and rains in all directions, each splintered section another bid for your death.

There is no way Bro wouldn't kill you.

"Dave? What the hell was that?" His voice bites out over the silent air and your knees feel weak. In all your eighteen years you've never felt this afraid, never felt this vulnerable.

You can't hide. The thought is laughable.

His quick footsteps sound from the living room area. In your minds eye you can almost see him raising from the futon and grumbling quietly to himself as he shuffles around the coffee table and heads in your direction.

Your breath is coming fast, but you know you can't run.

"Dave, I swear, if you've broken another dish I'm gonna-"

His blank stare cuts you and you squirm. Your toes brush the shards of his most precious record- the one he'd been tracking for years and only gotten his hands on last week- and send them singing across the tiles like a mocking crowd at your hanging.

Bro stands silently at the edge of the counter. His fists clench and unclench in rapid succession and you can see his jaw working beneath the stubble on his cheeks. Now you've done it- his cool façade is just as cracked as his record, and in due time your skull.

"Dave." His voice is under control. Not a shaky note, not a wavering pitch. His complexion smoothes out before you as you watch, back into its calm and expressionless state. You're already reaching for your katana when he speaks again.

"Come here." You don't dare question him. Instead, you follow him silently as he turns on his heel and exits the room. To your confusion he does not head straight for the door, but rather veers off to the right and parks himself onto the futon. He beckons you over with a flick of his wrist, not even looking in your direction.

You swallow hard and step closer. His hand flashes out and catches you by the wrist and yanks you in until your standing by his side. Beneath his shades you can see his orange eyes as he stares up at you with a cold fury you've never seen before. You panic, try to draw your hand away, try to back up and distance yourself, but his grip is firm and demanding and his voice is soft and low as he stares at you with those furious eyes.

"What happened."

"Bro I'm sorry I didn't mean to- it was an accident, ple-" Before you realize it you're falling over him and landing on his legs. He releases your wrist and locks an arm over your lower back, his other hand toying with the back of your jeans. Ice cold reality hits you and you thrash on his lap, trying to escape.

"Mmm... No. I don't think you're sorry yet..."

 

* * *

 

His fingers are cold against the small of your back, where your shirt has ridden up. You twitch beneath him uncomfortably, face heated and palms sweating. He's never done this before- Bro always strifes to get you to pay, never this.

"Bro, please!" His nails dig into your side and you gasp, biting your tongue as his other hand works your belt off and casts it across the room. He's silent as he works and drags your pants down quickly. The cold air hits your ass and you whimper, shrinking away from the air.

His fingers ghost across your flesh, a warm touch against your trembling skin.

The first strike lands and you howl, lurching forward and kicking your legs out and trying to squirm away. It felt like a branding- stinging, burning, painful.

His hand smacks down again and your ears burn as you cry out. Bro's leather gloves bite against your skin like fire. Your own fingers dig into the futon.

He raises his hand once more and you steel yourself, gritting your teeth and balling up your fists. He senses your defiance and lays three harsh blows on the curve of your ass in retaliation. Tears sting the back of your eyes but you wedge a knuckle between your teeth.

The next time you try and shift your hips you notice it. You groan and drop your head into the futon as the back of your neck flushes bright pink. The rest of your body freezes and your blood turns to ice even with your ass on fire. You're hard and straining under his touch and you bite back a moan.

"What's the problem, Dave...?" Bro coos quietly as he brings his hand down to your heated skin with force. He digs his nails in momentarily and you gasp at the pain. He chuckles quietly before pulling away once again and punctuating each of his next words with sharp smacks to your ass and thighs.

"Can't. Keep. It. In. Your. Pants. Can. You." Tears leak from your eyes and mix with the drool against your fingers as you slobber over your hand. Your stomach lurches when the thought of him leaving hand prints crosses your mind and you keen quietly.

"Bro!" He slams his hand down again. The salty taste in your mouth makes your face burn and you hide in the crook of your arm.

"Ten more. Count them." His voice is low and commanding.

A powerful slap lands and you lurch against him. Your voice comes out choked and strained, wavering as you call out. "O-one!"

Two more. Tears flow freely and you whimper as you give him the numbers. You're painfully hard and want nothing more than to just reach down and take care of yourself but you stay your hand.

After the next four you loose count. Bro doesn't seem to notice or care and his breath is heavy when you finally feel his hand still. He uncurls his hand from over your back and you scramble up, dragging up your pants with as much speed as you can muster and absconding to your room.

 

* * *

 

The door slams shut behind you with a bang and you dive to your bed, shucking your clothes as you go. Your pants burn as you drag them over your ass and you catch yourself in the mirror on your way over and pause.

Your ass is bright red against your pale freckled skin, littered with crescent shaped bites from Bro's nails. You can make out his handprints against your flesh and your cheeks burn as you gingerly trace one. Your breath lurches as you pinch yourself harshly. The arousal is dizzying and you nearly collapse by the mirror as you stare at the marks.

You have to tear yourself away from the sight of your ass to climb onto your bed. You position yourself on all fours before spitting into your palm and dropping one hand to trail down your stomach and grasp at your cock. You are in no mood for teasing.

"Mmmph..." Little groans bubble up from your throat as you imagine Bro's hand against you. His voice fills your ears and you just have to drop to your shoulders for support as your other hand reaches back and grips your heated skin. Your breath comes in fast as you bury your face into the pillows.

You jerk yourself roughly when your fingernails dig into your ass, fitting into the marks he left moments ago. Bro's ragged breathing, his strong grip, his unmerciful pace- you tighten your hand and bite your lip as images of him flash through your mind.

"Bro..." His name slips from your lips before you can stop it and you shove a few fingers into your mouth to stop the flow. You swipe your thumb up to spread the precum over yourself and your hand speeds up as you press your fingers down on your tongue. In your mind it's Bro's fingers that are pushing past your lips as he speaks quiet, filthy things into your ear as his free hand smooths over the curve of your ass.

Your dick throbs in your hand and you roll onto your back. Your ass screams in pain and you arch off the sheets in pleasure. You are lost to the world as your hand glides over your cock easily and your mind conjures up the image of Bro leaning over you with his hand raised in the air. His hand lands with a resounding slap and your eyes fly open as you gasp around your digits, pumping harder and tightening your grip even more as you come with a breathy cry. Thick streams of white come paint your stomach and you collapse into your sheets panting heavily.

It's some time before you can move. Quietly, you sit yourself up in search of your tissues. The box is lying on the floor by your discarded clothes and you roll over to grab them. A post- it- note is attached to the side. It flutters to the floor and you sigh as you pick it up, turning it over so you can read the orange handwriting.

"All you had to do was ask, little man. No need to go breaking records."


End file.
